


Insight

by snarechan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blind Character, Cooking, Friendship, Gap Filler, Gen, Grocery Shopping, Male Friendship, Missing Scene, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-01-26 03:51:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12548204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarechan/pseuds/snarechan
Summary: There's still so much for Ignis to learn (and teach).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been hesitating on sharing this series for a couple reasons. With Ignis' DLC slated for the end of this year I wasn't sure it was worth posting if it turns out to contradict too much of the game's content, so I considered holding off until we knew more. But [I've](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3701935) [posted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118017) [content](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8282474) [prior](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8451802) to FFXV's release before, so this is nothing new. I've also been waffling because there's only so much following vision impaired youtubers and writers can teach me, but again, I figure if I'm really off the mark readers can correct me. 
> 
> ~~I'm currently in the middle of working on the second part, where Gladio will _really_ make an appearance. This story was originally going to be a trilogy, but I couldn't come up with anything powerful enough for Noctis. Instead, I'll be putting all my energy into the next part of this story. I apologize if the tags seem a bit misleading at this time, but I promise to post it sometime soon.~~ Now uploaded! :B
> 
> So here, have a thing written by me and edited by Glyphenthusiast!

“Bridge at your twelve ‘o’ clock. Watch your step!” Prompto warned. Although, Ignis already had his suspicions about an upcoming obstacle. The man had taken to guiding Ignis in one fashion or another, usually by linking their arms together. He noticed that whenever they approached an obstruction that Prompto would tense. More than once he’d caught Ignis by surprise with too sharp a tug or stopping short.

“Noted,” he said. With the addition of his makeshift walking stick, a cane, Ignis detected the transition from sidewalk to stair step. Prompto gave his arm a pull, this time toward the right, and the brush of fabric at Ignis’ other elbow indicated that he’d narrowly avoided a passerby.

It was irksome and disorientating to travel on foot, but this evening it hadn’t been the worst case he’d dealt with. Few evacuees had returned to Altissia and less ventured out at night. Only dedicated or generous vendors remained open after withstanding the Leviathan’s wrath, so there wasn’t much in the way of crowds. At this hour Ignis theorized that it would be a productive time to shop and not be disturbed. Assuming, of course, he got anywhere with his arm intact.

That, and it’d also become obvious that Ignis wouldn’t accomplish much more at their hotel. During his recovery most of his tasks were regulated between the other members of Noctis’ entourage. Therefore, Ignis requested a trip outside to survey the ongoing state of the city and for a supply run. He would have preferred the solitude to do it himself, but knew it was out of the question.

Prompto was eager to accompany him and nearly dragged him out the door. It wasn’t Ignis’ place to ask, but he suspected Prompto was just as keen to leave their shared quarters behind. Tensions became high the closer they came to leaving the capital and, with the way Gladiolus and Noctis were heading, were liable to keep mounting.

Whenever His Highness was cognitive it was a… _challenge_ to interact with him, for understandable reasons. After the disaster that was the confrontation with the Hydraean and the loss of Lady Lunafreya, Noctis had turned inward and away from them. Ignis was inclined to allow him his space to heal, but as usual Gladiolus had his own idea on how best matters should be handled. Prompto’s take on the situation was somewhat apparent, as he assumed their friend wasn’t oblivious to the stewing and increased agitation amongst half their group.

“We’re almost to the convenience store. I’d say maybe ten average steps?” he said. At the lack of a reply, Prompto gave Ignis’ arm a squeeze. “Are you still doing okay? Do you need to stop and take a break? There’s a bench outside the doors—”

“There’s no need for that,” Ignis interjected. He didn’t want to be rude, but if he permitted Prompto to continue there was no telling if he’d stop.

“If you’re sure.”

Prompto paused to open the door, unlinking their arms to urge Ignis inside by the small of his back, and hovered close behind once they’d entered. Ignis’ cane tapped into a couple impediments – what might have been shelf bases, strewn boxes, or debris from the catastrophe that had yet to be removed. He intended to maneuver past them, but Prompto’s close proximity made him stumble more often than not.

“What do you think we need? Can I grab us anything?” he asked.

“Describe the interior,” Ignis requested, after it became apparent that he couldn’t take another step without stamping on Prompto’s toes or knocking into a barrier.

“Oh! Um, the shelves are kind of empty. We’ve got a choice of canned corn, canned beans, or canned meat.” Prompto sounded as enthused at the propsect of pre-processed food as Ignis felt, which was despondent. “There’s one operating cooler if you want fresh water or maybe some carbonated stuff. No milk or anything with a hard expiration date. A sign on the glass says it all went bad and no telling when a replenishment order will be.”

“Grab some of the canned beans, if you would,” he instructed. Mentally, Ignis tallied what they might need in his head.

Camelia Claustra had been more than generous to allow them refuge until Noctis recovered enough to be moved, but their weclome wasn’t indefinite. Blame for the debacle with Niflheim and the Leviathan was still being passed around as recovery efforts took precedence, but politically the First Secretary would need to make the decision to save face. No doubt she would request they leave, lest more trouble follow them.

Their work was unfinished, so there would be no returning to Lucis just yet. They needed to press on to the Imperial continent and reach the province of Tenebrae. News did not travel from so far and it was unknown what the conditions were like: how accessible the food and other resources would be, whether or not they would be able to travel freely, and the like. It was safest to be prepared for the worst and stockpile what they could now.

“Alright, I got all the beans they have,” Prompto announced, and then seeming to remember he added for Ignis’ benefit, “It’s seven cans worth. Is that enough? Should we supplement with something different?”

“Corn and meat, you said?” he asked.

“Yeah. SPAM in particular.”

Ignis wanted to balance out their diets a little more, but knew the money would be wasted on Noctis. Corn, while not green in coloration, was still on his ‘vegetables to avoid’ list. He’d be lucky to talk Noctis into beans after the incident with Takka back in Hammerhead. The SPAM may come in handy for mystery meat sushi, but…Ignis’ particular skill at the grill would need to be tested another time.

“We best save the funds,” Ignis hedged, settling the matter.

He felt something plastic bump up against him; by the height and material, he estimated it to be a handbasket. Prompto must have grabbed one to start carrying all the items. Ignis reached out to volunteer holding it, but Prompto mistook the gesture and resumed hooking themselves together at the elbow. Ignis frowned, but resisted commenting on it.

“Anything else?” Prompto asked.

“What dry goods are for sale?”

They continued browsing the store. Ignis asked for more details, to which Prompto was quiet beside him. He instinctively inclined his head in the other man’s direction, catching himself too late, and gave Prompto’s ribs a slight nudge to try and garner his attention instead. “Prompto, what is it?”

He jumped, jerking on Ignis’ arm again. “Huh? Sorry, did you say something?”

“I asked if there was anything else of note that I should know of. Camping supplies, survival gear, medicine, the like?” Ignis reiterated.

“No, they’re cleaned out,” Prompto said, determined to avoid his other question, but at Ignis’ raised eyebrow he coughed. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“That hardly sounds convincing,” Ignis said.

“It’s stupid.”

“ _Prompto_ , will you just be out with it?” The heat in his voice was unfounded, and Ignis understood this the moment he applied it so fiercely to the other man’s name. Prompto was taut against him. Ignis rubbed his forehead with the back of the hand not currently gripped in a loosening hold. “My apologies, that was uncalled for.”

“It’s…” Prompto hesitated, seeming to change tracks in conversation. “There’s a small box of candy, that’s all. I was wondering if the guys might like some to… I don’t know. Like I said, it’s dumb. Forget about it.”

After such an admission Ignis immediately felt like a greater heel. Of all the things to become agitated over, this was a pathetic one. He settled on, “That is a nice sentiment, but very well. Perhaps it’s best saved for another time.”

“Right.”

The trip to the counter to check out their purchases was awkward. Compounding matters, Ignis tried not to flinch as the sales clerk tallied off the total price. Supply and demand was in full swing; costs on anything of worth had skyrocketed overnight and beyond. If Noctis hadn’t insisted on participating in so many Totomostro tournaments prior to the devastation they wouldn’t be able to afford even this much. As it was, their pockets were substantially dented.

Prompto meekly offered to keep carrying the food. Once they were outside again Ignis slowed in his steps. Truth of the matter was, he wasn’t much inclined to return to the hotel and tolerate the electrified atmosphere. Perchance there were more shops to investigate, inquiries to make – any number of tasks to distract himself. However, the idea of exploration made his already weary body exhausted just contemplating the endeavor.

He downplayed his condition, but his body wasn’t fooled. Ignis hadn’t fully recovered from the fight. His scarring was too fresh, searing his nerves if he tried to move too much, and his muscles remained overtaxed. Ignis resigned to test his new boundaries, but the task proved more draining than he’d anticipated. It was unusual how impatient he’d become, and not liking that prospect he came to a decision.

“Prompto, may I make a request?” Ignis asked.

“Hm? Oh, sure, anything you want!”

“That bench you mentioned earlier, would you be opposed to us taking advantage of it for a moment? I do believe I would like to take you up on that offer now,” Ignis said.

“Dude, of course!” Prompto started to steer him toward the platform, but eased off suddenly. “Hey, um… What’s easier for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you prefer me giving directions or…? Because if I’m being too pushy or in the way, you can totally say so. I was a jerk for not asking earlier and I promise to back off if I’m bothering you,” Prompto said.

Ignis, so concerned with being pitied, had forgotten Prompto’s natural pension for overzealousness. When he put his mind to a task, he tended to overcompensate, as if everything he did needed to contribute to his self-worth in the group and prove himself. In their own way, they both shared some of that nature.

“You’re not a nuisance,” Ignis reassured him right off. He used his cane to detect one of the legs of the bench, easing his arm free to feel for the top of it, and sat down. The platform was solid and cold, made of some kind of stone like cement or marble.

“I’m just not accustomed to being on the receiving end of… _this_.” He waved his wrist in front of himself, unable but wanting to convey everything that’d led up to this moment. “I will adapt, but this trial period is proving to be a strenuous one. You’ll have to pardon my temper while I adjust.”

“Heh, if that’s you when you’re _angry_ , then I think we can all deal.” A weight came down near Ignis’ hip, followed by another thump and the crinkling of a grocery bag. Prompto had sat down beside him and began to fidget. “Anyway, I deserve it and I’m sorry for earlier. I must come off stalker-ish and I know you hate being babied and _I know_ _—_ ”

Ignis sought out Prompto’s hand to offer a semblance of comfort, but ended up grabbing him by the forearm. The gesture exuded a calming enough effect without him needing to utter a single word. There was a shaky intake of breath when Prompto started back up, but at least he spoke slower than before. “Is this what it was like for you?”

“I don’t understand,” Ignis said. His head tilted, as if redirecting his ear would give him clarity.

“You’ve been taking care of Noct since you were kids, right? Is…is this what it was like, worrying about someone _all_ the time? How do you not already have an ulcer with his name on it?”

He didn’t resist the surprised laugh that bubbled up inside him. It was throaty at best, coming off more as a grunt, but he was amused nonetheless. His chest hurt afterwards, his injuries reminding Ignis how long it’d been since last he’d felt such an urge, but it was worth the discomfort. “It wasn’t always as bad as all that. There was the occasional instance when I had a conniption fit as opposed to an abdominal sore.”

Unfortunately his attempt at humor only had a mild effect. The tendons in Prompto’s arm flexed as he made fists. “I get it. I feel sick and angry just thinking about… _ya know_.”

Ignis could picture Prompto running his tongue along his bottom lip in worried recollection and staring imploringly as he’s wont to do when feeling vulnerable. It was clear in his voice, how exposed and raw he felt. “I guess I can’t stop thinking if we’d all just stuck together instead of splitting up, maybe things would’ve turned out differently? Now every time one of you guys is alone and out of my sight it’s like I’m about to have a heart attack. It’s screwy, and I’ll get over it, but…please bear with me?”

“I’m sure we can come to a shared agreement. If you forgive my intermittent outbursts, then I’m willing to overlook your dotting. As you lot have mentioned, that’s _my_ job, after all. Sound reasonable?” Ignis asked.

“Y-yeah! I can definitely do that. Outburst away, you deserve it, especially if it helps. I mean, if anyone can turn this situation around, it’d be you. I know it might not seem like it, but I believe in you.”

He wasn’t easily humbled or struck speechless, yet Ignis was both. Finally, he asked, “Well, shall we carry on and see if our other halves are still in one piece?”

The advisor lifted his elbow and waited for Prompto to accept his arm. Ignis directed the other man to his feet, but they fell into step together.

“Ugh. Do we have to hurry?” Prompto asked, voice strained. “Can’t we just drop this stuff off at the concierge service and…uh…”

Ignis preferred to keep tabs on Noctis in shorter bursts, but he wasn’t certain how much his presence comforted him. Best not to smother His Highness, as Ignis understood firsthand how negative an impact such an overbearing presence could be. Provided Gladiolus and Noctis didn’t exchange too many words, as they’ve avoided doing, then matters should remain steady awhile longer.

“I suppose if Noct and Gladio haven’t mauled one another yet, then they can be trusted to their own devices a tad longer,” he relented. “Yes, I think that would be a splendid idea, Prompto. Shall we visit Weskham and check in on him?”

“Oh hell yes! Do you think he’ll have anything for dinner?” Reverting to a closer approximation to his standard enthusiasm, Prompto accompanied him to the hotel to drop off their goods, and kept him company. The pressure on Ignis’ arm was much lighter this time around.


	2. Chapter 2

Ignis awoke without knowing why. He lay still, breathing evenly in-and-out, as he tried to open his eyes to take in his surroundings and was only able to move the one. His hand reached up and felt scarring on his left side, sealing the lid shut. It was with a detached, almost resigned acceptance that he remembered the cause of the injury and how he wouldn't, _couldn't_ ever see again.

 _Not much to be done about it_ , the morning mantra came to him. As if he would be permitted to wallow in the fact, even if he were inclined to feel that way anymore. His other senses were still dedicatedly at work. While his brain shook off the haze of sleep, Ignis picked up the sounds of clinking metal. On wood, perhaps, or certainly against something dull. It was a rapid, off-kilter noise that he could almost place.

Frowning, he sat up. He was careful not to disturb Noctis, who once got so much sleep and now barely received any. Or Prompto, whose warmth he felt through the thick fabric of sleeping bags.

Ignis instinctively sought his glasses, although at his request he'd been provided shades to replace his old corrective lenses. He wasn't ashamed of his looks, there few in this war torn world who didn't bare some kind of physical mark, but the skin around the injury remained sensitive to the elements. No matter what salves or curatives were applied the areas of his body touched by the Ring, nothing changed; they felt freshly burned, despite being scabbed over.

Next, he searched for his cane. It was where he'd left it by the tent flap, resting upright at having not been kicked over by him or one of his companions in their sleep. His tools secured, Ignis crawled out of the cover provided by the tent, where his ears weren't the only thing detecting activity. The scent of…something boiling, perhaps noodles, filled the air. It smelled of wet dough, so he supposed it must be. More curious was the pungent scent of cheese.

And there was that _noise_ again, grating at the edge of his ability to discern.

"Gladio?" he called, soft in his hesitancy rather than just his temperance at keeping hushed for those still asleep. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Shit. Did I wake you?" He stopped whatever he was doing, his footsteps heavy and becoming heavier at his approach. Gladiolus announced his intentions before gripping Ignis' upper arm, sure but not forceful, as he acted in counterbalance so Ignis could resume his footing. "Sorry, I was trying to be quiet."

"No, it's quite all right. I was merely curious," he said, allowing himself to be led over to the campfire. Gladiolus got him as far as one of the chairs, releasing him so that he may get settled. He hovered until Ignis was seated. "I ask again, what are you doing?"

Gladiolus returned to his task. He sounded further away, perhaps on the opposite side of the fire or had turned his back towards him. "Decided to get an early start on breakfast."

"Oh?" He mumbled something, but Ignis understood him perfectly well. "Did you say you've prepared _macaroni and cheese?_ First thing in the morning?"

"Iris never complained when I made it. She thought it was a treat when I'd make it instead of cup noodles," Gladiolus continued to grumble. Something was beaten rather thoroughly, it finally registering to Ignis that he must have been chopping flecks of cheese on a cutting board earlier, and now he was stirring and scraping a pot. "Some of my best memories with her were when we'd eat together, just the two of us left in the house. The only time she wasn't nattering was when her mouth was full."

His attempt to brush off the personal information didn't deter Ignis' keen investigative skills. He understood that Gladiolus was an older brother. Ignis just hadn't considered what that _meant_ for him, growing up the eldest in a household for which the safety of the king and the kingdom came first. As an only child who lived alone most of his life, Ignis was accustomed to self-efficiency, and never imagined how difficult that might be for others.

As part of the royal inner circle, Ignis had met Gladiolus' father, Clarus, often at the Citadel. His attendance was in high demand, being Shield to Regis. In some ways, Ignis may have seen Gladiolus' predecessor more than his own son was allowed. Jared had been an integral part of the siblings' livelihood, it obvious before his death that he and his were considered a part of the Amicitia clan, but the bond between brother and sister were never made more obvious.

And now Gladiolus was sharing his meal preparations with them.

"No complaints here, I assure you. Just pleasantly surprised, is all," Ignis said.

"Yeah, well. Don't get used to it. This is just temporary," he said gruffly.

"Hm? Does this mean you approve the idea of my staying on?" Ignis asked, knowing Gladiolus would appreciate his directness. He wasn't bitter over the other man's earlier dismissal of his presence in the Fodina Caestino Mines. He'd understood his reservations – even contemplated the idea that leaving for good would be one less distraction for Noctis, one less burden on his shoulders, one less reminder of his losses.

But Ignis had never taken the easy path a single day in his entire life, and he would see this through to the end. The irony did not escape him, but he refused to back down. It'd be a disservice to do so, otherwise.

Gladiolus' stirring slowed until stopping completely. He tapped his utensil on the side of the pot, probably to dislodge some cheese or noodles or both. "If you can relearn to cook as skillfully as you fought out there yesterday, then who am I stop you from doing either?"

"Indeed," Ignis said, if not a tad smug. He was proud of his pitching that fire spell, Prompto recounting to him multiple times how it'd landed dead center of the Malboro's mouth and exploded 'algae-encrusted guts all over the place'. Not one of his prettier executions, but certainly affective. And very apt at proving Ignis' point.

"Here you go." Gladiolus waited for Ignis to hold out a hand and took it in his, turning it over to set a warmed bowl in his palm. He waited until Ignis' fingers curled and he had a firm grip on the container before taking his other hand and wrapping his fingers around the shaft of a fork.

"Let me know how I did. If it sucks I might be able to salvage it before the trouble twins wake up," he instructed.

Ignis scooped up what he hoped was a reasonable portion and blew on it more than he normally had, before tentatively taking a bite. He made a surprised noise in the back of his throat as it turned out to be colder and sweeter than he anticipated. "Mm, is this applesauce?"

"Yep. Helps cool it down faster so you can eat it sooner," Gladiolus said matter-of-factly. "Nutritional, too. I tricked Iris into getting her Vitamin C that way. You wouldn't believe how picky she was as a kid – worse than Noct, sometimes."

"Certainly difficult to believe," Ignis said. This time he gave the dish a quick stir. There was no need to blow on the food, so he partook of several more forkfuls. "I must say, this is not half bad. Perhaps a tad more cheddar, and if you were to bake it…"

Gladiolus let him prattle on awhile longer, Ignis making a mental list at his own verbal suggestions to remember for later since he couldn't jot them down. Eventually, Gladiolus said in a bemused tone, "Must mean it's edible, huh?"

"Ah, yes. Truly a culinary masterpiece honed through the ages."

"Smartass."

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [writing blog on Tumblr](http://snaurus.tumblr.com/) for more content!


End file.
